Minecraft: The Terror Beneath the Stone
by Memphiston
Summary: The earth is furious with us. We have polluted, destroyed and leeched off of it for years, until finally, it decided that it would pour its inner horrors out into the open. I'm alone in this nightmare, forced to build everything back up myself, take naps in the dirt, and watch as things born in the darkest crypt of the planet, now creep across my windows at night. This is my life.
1. Entry 00: Prologue

Minecraft: The Terror Beneath the Stone

A Wholesale Recollection by Steven Brine

Prologue

Do you think its possible that the world...is sentient? That it knows of the horrible things that occurs right atop its face, thanks to our hand? All the pollution, industrialization, and destruction that happens over the course of years; do you think it sat there and let this happen for millions upon millions of years until one day, it just snapped?

I don't know, and it sounds like a stupid question to ask. Yet everyday, I am forced to contemplate an answer as I trek out across this land; this angry, fanged land. It was a normal day, nothing exciting about it whatsoever. Everyone was on their morning routine, either plugging up the roads to work, crowding into their buses for school, or flushing down gallons of super-shot coffee. It was a regular day in the life of humanity, until suddenly, without any sort of warning or preemptive word, the ground speared and ruptured out from underneath our feet, as if it were trying to reach out and devour the sky.

The claws of rock ripped the streets and buildings apart, the soil bubbling itself up into colossal mountains in seconds. Between these chaotically-formed mounds of nature formed deep dark holes, cavernous pits to the dark innards of the planet that gnawed society down and swallowed hundreds of thousands of its denizens. Like a terrestrial porcupine, the earth shed the skin that humanity had littered with modernization, and let its true, raw form out in an overpowering torrent of global seismic reformation.

I was out in the woods just doing my morning hike; I woke up cradled in a bed of dirt.

A sliver of midday sun gleaming through the web of trees was what woke me. As I tried to move, I found that the soil had come to clasp around me, everything except my hair and forehead being quilted by the stuff. As consciousness slowly rose back up, I pushed my arms through the clump of earth, and broke the dirt's hold on me. I clamored out and quickly swerved around, trying to remember where I was. Trees, trees and more trees occupied every direction I turned to, until what I think was the north showed me a gravel path, now winded and scattered across the entire woodland. At that moment I remembered why I came, my morning hike, routine hill-scaping for an hour before I head off to work. Now much more familiar than when I was in the ground, I quickly rushed down the path, hopefully to the direction of my apartment.

The path was originally an even plain all the way across, but for some reason it now had a very steep downhill slope, so steep in fact that I couldn't run without the risk of tumbling over the gravel. Taking care to avoid glittering my face with sharp pebbles, I finally made it to the forest entrance right before my...apartment...

The first thing I saw was the corner of my apartments roof, buried into the street with the outside of the second floor attached to it. Above that stood the remains of the building, two massive gaping holes punched into it like termite-laden wood. I walked up to it slowly, taking all of the destruction in the best that I could. My neighbors entire apartment room could be seen thanks to the rips in the structure, its contemporary look also wrecked and ravaged by whatever disaster had burst into the scene. I guess the shock heightened up my sense, as the sound of glass crunching beneath my feet sounded extremely loud, so much that it drew my gaze back down. I wish I could've just kept staring at the goddamn building.

A hand lay beside the shattered pieces, a few bits of the heated sand cuddling under its palm shadow. Right at the elbow of the limb was where the fangs of brick and wood cleaved into it, clearly hiding some sort of mangled, horrid body on the other side. The crackled window tempted me to look inside, but I knew I wouldn't be able to handle the disgusting sight. So I forced myself away, lunging back into the remains of my first-floor apartment. As I guessed, everything was where it shouldn't be: cabinets were torn from their hinges on the walls, my oven had exploded and sputtered its mechanical pieces into the walls like darts, and my stairs appeared to have imploded like a crumpled piece of paper.

There was only one thing that appeared salvageable from this cave of contemporary wreckage. Splayed out on the ground in the center of the room was my strong-box, something I always had just in case I had to leave my home due to some sort of public uprising or undertaking of the city. I wasn't a conspiracy nut but I knew how to keep myself prepared, even if it was such a slight provision. Weirdly three of many lamps and a small brushing flame surrounded the chest, as if guiding me to it, so I wasted no time prying it open and collecting the provisions inside.

Inside lay a hatchet with a large blade, capable to cutting down a full grown tree within minutes. Though it was of the cheap sort, made of some sort of hardened stone rather than metal, it would suffice for now. Neighboring the axe was another tool of the same stone material, though this time molded to shape a pickaxe. I'm not quite sure what I'd use this for or if stone on stone would even work, but its better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.

Below these tools rested some pieces of starting wood, formed in the shapes of boards and sticks for which to build future tools maybe. Then finally, at the bottom were some edible provision: four pieces of petrified bread and three abnormally large apples. These I had gotten from a friend of mine who was into growth experimentation, claiming the bread would not stale and the apples would not darken and wither after taking a bite, giving them a nice life span.

With my items in hand, I rushed towards my closet, which was thankfully still standing, and plucked out my travel backpack, stuffing everything inside. Then finally, knowing that this entire building could come down in any second, I just clutched my khaki hiking vest, slid it over my turquoise shirt and blazed out towards the gaping hole in the wall. I leapt through the concrete maw, just as the sound of wood, stone and metal pillars crackling and splintering began to play. I couldn't look back because I knew the awe would root me to the ground and let me be crushed, so I just kept running outwards to the street, hearing the massive structure collapse and meld into the ground.

The harsh blast from the building's fall knocked me off my feet, sending me flying amongst the veils of dust and debris. I spin and bore into the pavement, trying to brace my fall as best as human skin could. I tried to ignore everything, the ringing in my ears, and stinging scrapes on my arms and elbows, and dizziness from being hit with such concussive force...but I just stumbled and tipped from side to side as I tried to walk. I had to let a short while past as my jigsawed senses put themselves back together, finally allowing me to get a firm stance on the ground. I glanced around to try and see what was there, where I could go, if anyone else was around here; again, my common sense treats me to a horrible, unsettling sight.

There was a bar about two houses down from where my home once stood, a nice quaint place that was very fond of using the color red in its décor. I can't remember the name though ironically I frequented the place on my less-than-celebratory days. But the roof had spidered up from the building itself, casting a massive shadow across have of the street. Inside that pocket of shade...stood something ugly. It was grotesque even from this distance, with red breaming eyes and slitting claws, garbed in the tattered clothing of a civilian. I didn't like it, and I knew it didn't like me, but for some reason it would not leave the darkness, taking steps in my direction but stopping right at the cutoff.

Was it going to pounce, was it just waiting, would it summon others? I wouldn't give it a chance. If this was the first thing I saw when trying to make my way to the city, I couldn't possibly fathom what else is in that crumbled, dead place.

I ran for the woods, the place I was the most familiar with besides town. I don't know why I would choose the untamed wilderness over what was a cataclysmal version of the city I knew the inside and outside of. But those eyes on that creature, from a mere look I could feel that there were dozens, hundreds...thousands more just like it.

The city was a now a nest of hungry eyes; I couldn't go back there.


	2. Entry 01: First Night

Entry 01: First Night

I ran and ran and ran, clamoring up the sharp steep hills of the forest in a desperate hope to lose the town behind me. But even as the buildings, streets and dead lights shrunk from view, I felt like I couldn't escape the eyes. They floated behind me, the gaze stalking me past the vegetation, through the graveled paths, and into the shadowed woods.

I had no watch so I couldn't tell how long I ran for. Maybe an hour, a little under that? To be honest, I didn't care; the cityscape was now caged behind branch and leaf, and I felt a little bit safer. I took a second to rest, lazily plopping onto a large boulder as I caught my breath. Of course, my mind felt that this would be the perfect time to analyze and think on what I had just experienced, thusly the questions flooded. Why is the city destroyed? Why is the terrain completely different and mountainous, as if the earth completely remolded itself? …What was that thing inside the bar?

What if that actually was a person and my mind was still muddled up from the collapse of the building? But, if they were normal why did they just stand there, in the shadows? You would come and ask another survivor what was going on, right? Even though, there weren't any other people around whatsoever...

I tried to remember what had happened before I woke up stuck in the ground; there were fragments of morning orange juice and bacon, then going out for my hike. Then as I was rounding the gravel path, it was like the whole earth shook. Out of nowhere large spikes of rock and ground ripped into the sky around me, the soil beneath the grass bulging like a swollen blotch. I remembered, the force of the ground rumbling throw my feet out from under me, and sent my head thrashing into the side of a nearby tree. I blacked out and I guess the dirt started to rain over me.

Thank God I wasn't buried alive.

My breathing had returned to normal, so I stood back up and focused my mind back onto what mattered at the moment: finding out how to survive. Going back into the city was out of the question, especially after I had just spent an hour or so escaping from it. Any sort of cottages or cabins in these woods would have been smashed to splinters by the initial rupture...it seems that there was only one option. I'd have to build my own shelter from scratch...

The thought killed me, especially with how difficult the feat was going to be. Well, at least I have an abundance of wood. Tossing my pack onto the floor I fished out the stone axe from inside, and talked up to the shortest tree in view. It was about nine to ten feet high; it'd probably be good for a corner pillar or the foundation, depending on how I go about it. Thankfully the axe was sharp and light, and with a quick slash of the arm, I had already cut a fifth into the bark below. Four more good chops should do it.

You know, I never knew how important it was to be able to tell time until now. I had managed to down about five trees in what felt like maybe two-three hours, and hauled them to an empty spot in the forest, perfect for hastily cobbling up a half-assed wooden fort. I used them to outline the foundation: a nice solid rectangle about twelve by fourteen feet. Each log was about one and a half feet thick, so if I leveled up about four more on top of them, I think it could work out, especially if I use the planks I bought with me as support colum-

A branch cracked in two somewhere, snatching my attention away from my work. All I could see were trees as I swerved around the landscape, and only then did I realize exactly how late it was. I didn't need a watch to tell that the entire forest would be netted in black with a few minutes...and I had nowhere to rest or hide...

The branch crackings played once more, this time in another direction. I had to think; there was no caves or pits to rest in nearby, and if I ran back to the city it would take me at least another hour. My shelter was not even 10% done...

My axe took a backseat as I dropped it back into the bag, switching it out for my pickaxe. Then, in quick hacking movements, I plunged the tool into a massive mount of dirt right behind my soon-to-be home. Idiotic to be doing this with a damn pickaxe, why didn't my friend have a goddamn stone shovel or something? Regardless, it was better than digging with my hands or scraping into it with the axe. I used the side of the pickaxe to carve deeper and deeper into the mound, noticing that there was a stone ceiling above my dig, lucky for me. The pain of the branches being crushed by unknown feet hastened my efforts, until I could finally reach in deep enough that I could fit myself and my supplies. Tossing the pickaxe and backpack inside, I blazed out and maddeningly searched for two of the pieces of wood I had bought with me. I found them again the foundation, ripped them away, and dove back into my soiled crawlspace, stuffing the wood in between me and the hole I had made...

I was gonna put my faith in a piece of wood to keep whatever was out there for finding me...if I wasn't panicky and desperate I would curse myself out for thinking of such an idiotic idea. But despite this I made sure they stuck good into the dirt, using the excess amount I had dug to reinforce the planks, though small cracks in between them still slit through.

I figured I was safe, the hole dark enough that whatever was out there couldn't see my movements if they looked in. I could only hope that they weren't intelligent enough to question the existence of wooden planks stuffed into a dirt mound.

I collapsed onto the ground, let my head mold and comb into the dirt. It was moist and clay-like, weirdly comfortable actually. Unfortunately I couldn't move or turn away from facing the door for fear of the whole mound collapsing on top of me, so I was forced to gaze out into the night. I closed my eyes to try and sleep, though at this point it was futile, as the noises had begun to evolve beyond just the snapping deaths of tree limbs.

There were things walking outside my mound, groaning and humming deep incomprehensible tones that wormed into my ears. They were all draped in shadow but the parts that I did manage to see...were inhuman, nor were they animalistic. They were just...indescribable. Their limbs were twisted and their bodies saggy from emaciation, like...zombies.

They shuffled and kicked around into the trees and hills, tripping upon themselves as they wandered aimlessly into the forest. But one the majority of them had left the scene, one last straggler stepped into view. I recognized him immediately, not from the torn jeans, not from the red plaid shirt, but from the bleeding red eyes. They glowed, they fucking glowed, pulsating with a hunger for something. I don't even think the damn thing knew what it wanted...it just wanted to eat.

I swear it looked straight at me through the cracks, but it didn't even try to move the planks. It just turned back around and slowly followed its brethren, its left leg slumped and twisted.

What the hell happened to this world? These things are not supposed to exist...I know it.


End file.
